


Avenging Love: Refuge

by xsimkat



Series: Avenging Love Series [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Male-Female Friendship, Slow Burn, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-27 13:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14426787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsimkat/pseuds/xsimkat
Summary: Richard Reynolds has been Howard Stark's labratory assistant for over 30 years. When his daughter, Phoebe Reynolds, is diagnosed with fibromyalgia and chronic migraines, he comes to Stark with a crazy idea that Stark cannot refuse.  Under the alternative codname, "Project Whelve", Stark helps Reynolds recreate and alter the serum used on Captain Steve Rogers in hopes of healing his daughter's disease with the help of some old friends. Phoebe Reynolds is ready to be free of the pain that has entrapped her and is willing to risk everything; even her life.





	1. Why We Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my very first AO3 story! I have been writing fanfiction for many years, but have only recently delved into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. This particular story is part one of a series that brings together Phoebe Reynolds (OFC) and Steve Rogers.  
> Part one is about the journey Phoebe goes on during the year 1991 before the death's of the Starks.

  


When my father suggested using an altered version of the Super Soldier Serum to cure me, I thought he was joking. As it turns out, he was quite serious. He told me about his plan eight months ago, but the research I found by sneaking into his office tells me he’s been working on a solution for close to five years. He’s dedicated, I’ll give him that. I had no idea that Howard Stark was working closely with my father until the night I snuck into his office. I did know, however, that Stark only worked on projects that he knew would benefit his career and his future. That was when I realized my father was truly going to create an altered version of the serum to cure me once and for all.  
  
You see, I’m sick. Not so sick that I’m bedridden, but sick enough to cause shooting pains in various parts of my body that temporarily cause paralyze me mentally and sometimes, physically. They call it fibromyalgia. It’s thought to be caused by inflammation of the fibrous connective tissue in our body, like tendons and ligaments. It’s a strange disease that no one truly understands; doctors aren’t even sure of its origin, or whether it is a mental disorder or a physical ailment. But most agree that it is debilitating. All I know is that I have trigger points all over my body that are overly sensitive. I have stiffness in my neck and joints almost every day of the week. I get fifteen to sixteen migraines a month that cause their own set of unpleasant symptoms.  
  
_It’s hell._  
  
My father’s been working alongside Howard Stark for as long as I can remember. I have fond memories of wandering the halls with Tony, Howard’s son. I was three years younger and about eight years dumber than he was. While I was graduating high school, he was graduating from MIT. Though his IQ was higher than the Empire State building, even he couldn’t understand my condition. He created an electromagnetic sheath that blended into the dura of my brain. A small string runs to my optic nerve, where a handheld can scan my retinas and see how fast my neurons fire.  
  
All it can do is show when I have an episode. Tony created this device at sixteen. During college, he used MIT’s high-tech labs to do whatever he could to help me. He made chemical compounds one right after another to stop the neurons in my brain from firing so rapidly to various parts of my body. But his concoctions either made me feel like a zombie or worsened my pain. After one of his experiments put me in a three-day coma, Howard threatened to pull Tony’s funding for his senior project at MIT. Unfortunately, Tony had it coming. He was always combative towards Mr. Stark. Their personalities clashed so frequently that Tony practically lived on the small studio apartment that was attached to their mansion just to be away from his father after college. I remember spending the night at his house multiple times after one of the epic Stark vs. Stark battles. Battered and torn down, Tony rarely let me see him completely fall apart.  
  
Flash-forward almost five years. It’s June. 1991. Tony’s off to some European country with his newest bodyguard, Happy Hogan, to keep him in check. Howard Stark has some free time in between meetings with corporation hedge funders, so he offered his services. We’ve been at Stark Industries main campus lab for three days. If it wasn’t for the fact that Mr. Stark spends days at a time here and requires housing, we wouldn’t have a place to sleep or eat. We wouldn’t even be trying this.  
  
But here we are. Getting ready to alter a serum that has only had one success, and that one success is gone.  
  
I don’t believe Captain America is dead. Neither does Mr. Stark. He tells me stories about the Captain and about the serum. I especially love his story about how he liberated the Allied Prisoners. A man who was once a dancing monkey for the government ended up a national hero.  
  
I’m not sure what this serum will do to me. If it gives me the opportunity to make a difference like it did with Captain Rogers, so be it. If not, then I can’t think of a more honorable way to die if the serum fails. If it makes me normal, then I will live in honor of the real hero.  
  
Steve Rogers is the reason I even have this chance at all.


	2. The Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise visitor brings the key ingredient to Howard Stark for Project Whelve, but will Phoebe go through with the experiment?

I started having second thoughts today. Because today is the day that will change my life forever. Today could be my last, or it could be my first. Will I feel my soul leave my body and ascend to something greater? Will I feel my soul free itself from this sickly body it was given? That’s a good question. One that I cannot answer until the moment it is happening.   
  
My father invited Howard Stark to oversee the administration of the serum He can’t do it himself; he’s doesn’t want to be the reason I’m in pain. I was hoping Mr. Stark told Tony about what was happening, but I know it’s wishful thinking. But if anyone is going to be there, it’s going to be Tony.   
  
I’ve been here for three days, getting ready for my experiment via blood tests, genetic marker pre-tests, the signing of my will so Tony would get some special possessions I own, and my DNR. If I end up in a coma, I told my father that I do not want my life extended beyond 30 days. It’s easier for everyone. He wouldn’t let me hear the end of it, but being 18 has its perks. I picked up my rotary phone that my dad bought me at a yard sale when I was 10. I can’t seem to let go of it. I dialed Tony’s phone. As smart and high-tech as he is, he didn’t cave into the new fad of mobile devices until this year. He didn’t want to admit that someone else made a popularized device before him.   
  
The dial tone continued over and over again. He wasn’t going to pick it up. I hung up my phone just as there was a knock on my door in the ICU corridors. I lost control of my body as I jumped up to run into the arms of the person leaned against the archway, donning their tinted shades and million-dollar smile.

“Hey, Sparks. You must really be doped up if you’d think I’d miss this.”

“Tony! You came!” I exclaimed, unable to hide my smile. Tony’s been calling me Sparks for as long as I can remember. He used to tell me that when I was younger, he could swear he saw sparks fly out of my hands when I got angry or overly excited. I told him he was working on his project for too long and that is why he imagined he saw them.

Tony released me from the hug and lifted the shades off of his eyes, revealing a small black eye. “I set aside a very important date with my laboratory equipment to be here. I’m going to make the most out of it.”

“Oh my gosh Tony, what happened?”

“Oh, you mean this?” Tony touched the purple flesh, wincing in the process. “Yep, still there. Damn.”

I tapped him on the shoulder. “Hello? Question asked, answered much appreciated.”

“First of all, your grammar is horrendous. Seriously, did your dad teach you how to talk in a barn? Second, it was a minor setback. No big.”

“’No big?’ Your father is going to take one look at that shiner and there will be hell to pay.”

Tony was never intimidated by the founder of Stark Industries. But he was sometimes intimidated by his father, Howard Stark. And trust me, when Tony messes up there is no difference between the two.

“I was just messing around with a few things. It got a little out of hand and shit started flying. _You_  ended up chucking something at my direction,” Tony said while rubbing the back of his head. It was a nervous habit of his. One of his easier-detectable habits.

I gathered my robe strings and tied them loosely around the front. “You better hope karma takes a liking to you and your,” I gestured to his torso, “ _charms_.”

“Everyone likes my ‘ _charms_ ’,” Tony replied with a coy smile.

“Not everyone,” I reminded him with a playful smirk.

“So, you’re the minority. That’s okay, too. I have ways of changing your mind.”

I laughed. “How about you just get me to the pre-op room instead?”

Knowing I wasn’t going to let him win, or change my mind, he took my arm in his.

“As you wish, my lady,” Tony mused.

We walked down the hallway, through the Bridgeway, and down three floors on the elevator with Tony talking about various inventions he’s created, the newest hire – a bodyguard named Happy, telling me he is also displaying feelings associated with nervousness in seeing his father. But no matter how much Tony had a way with words, a way to make me feel anything but what my brain was trying to relay to my body, today was not the case. I was scared when I left my room, I was scared walking down the hallway, and I am even more scared now that I am strapped to a board standing up with my arms and legs tied down.

***No One's POV***

Tony refuses to leave Phoebe’s side, even after fighting with his father that he was risking radiation poisoning.

“Damn it, Dad! I’m not leaving her! You’re going to have to pry my feet from this floor, otherwise I’m staying.” He looks at her and his heart aches for the pain she has suffered for so many years. He puts a hand to her cheek, and brushes an escaping strand and whispers, “I’m staying.”

Phoebe can’t help but feel guilty. He’s risking so much to provide her with comfort that she won’t even feel once her father puts her under. She clasps her hand over his. “If I die today, I’m glad I got to see you,” she says as a tear falls down her cheek, pooling at her collarbone.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?” He asks a final time, as if he was going to change her answer.

Phoebe has come to terms with her fate. If it is her last moment, then it shall be with her best friend. “I’m sure.”

“I can make it go away.” Tony’s voice forsakes him, and for a moment, he is silent. His painful eyes locked with Phoebe’s. “I can build something. Just let me try. I promise you I will make it go away, Phoebe.”

“Some things can’t be fixed with an invention, Tony. You have to understand that,” she tells him. She feels a sudden pinched in her arm, looks and sees red in the tube. A first step. “That wasn’t so bad,” she says with a faint smile.

Howard Stark freezes above Phoebe mid-tapping, as if he’s seen a ghost. Phoebe isn’t sure why, and even Tony shows a look of concern.

“Dad? What is it?” Tony asks in a worrisome tone that makes Phoebe squirm. “What’s wrong?”

“Steve Rogers said the same thing when they gave him penicillin,” Howard says quietly. His eyes fall to the floor, and his hands soon join them after he tapes her IV. Phoebe looks at Tony with guilt in her eyes, but he shakes his head and squeezes her other hand. “We’re ready to start the Propofol, Phoebe.”

Tony’s grip doesn’t change. “Can I stay until she goes under?” He asks his father, sounding the most sincere Howard has ever heard in his son’s voice.

It’s enough for Howard to give in to his son, although he warns, “You have to leave once we start injecting the serum.”

“Deal.”

Phoebe’s father, Dr. Richard Reynolds, appears from the other side of the tempered glass. He looks nervous but excited. He feels overwhelmed but devoted to trying to help his daughter. “You can change your mind still,” he tells her.

Phoebe shakes her head, and offers a small smile. “I appreciate everyone making sure I am of sound mind,” she says, making sure to look at every doctor, nurse, scientist, and Tony. “I want to do this. I need to do this. And not just for me.”

“Who for, Pheebs?” Richard is genuinely surprised to know she is not doing this painful procedure for herself, but for someone of whom she never spoke.

“I grew up listening to the stories,” she begins, focusing on Howard. “Captain America changed the lives of our country and its people. He died a hero. I feel somewhat obligated to live up to the serum’s expectations, should I live, of course.”

“You’re going to live,” Tony emphasized.

“And the serum you’re receiving is slightly different from the one Captain Rogers was given,” Richard reminds his daughter. He looks to Howard, who then takes the lead.

“And with that, I would like to introduce you to someone who was present during his injection. Mrs. Margaret Carter.” 

Peggy Carter steps through the double doorway of the operating room dressed in a black pencil skirt and navy blazer. Her many missions have begun to show in her aging wrinkles mapped along her forehead and jaw. Yet she still looks beautiful, complete with bright red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Phoebe watches the confidence in her descent down the steps into the operating area, bypassing the glass dashboards and remembers a time. It reminds Phoebe of her childhood when she wished she could have a job in which she would matter to someone.

Because Peggy Carter mattered to everyone.

“Hello, Mr. Stark. Lovely to see you again,” Peggy says, extending a hand for Howard to shake.

He gladly accepts it, placing a hand to her shoulder and giving it a gentle rub. “Mrs. Carter was one of most trusted agents in the SSR, and worked closely with Captain Rogers,” Howard tells the group, looking at Peggy with a sympathetic smile that is quickly reciprocated.

Peggy’s smile falters and she has the same gloom Howard had at the mention of Captain America. Phoebe read about Peggy Carter in the Smithsonian. She grew close to Rogers; a kind of close that no one else was able to. She penetrated Rogers’ shield around his heart and believed in him when no one else would. He needed that. Phoebe was honored.

“It’s truly an honor, Mrs. Carter. I have read so much about you,” Phoebe says. “I would shake your hand, but I am otherwise occupied at the moment.”

“I will raise your handshake and give you a hug instead,” Peggy tells her, leaning forward give her free hand a gentle squeeze. “After your procedure.”

“Shall we get started?” Howard asks the room. The room is silent, and he takes that as a sign of no objections. “Very well then. We will start by injecting valium into Ms. Reynolds’s IV, then proceed with IV Propofol. Once she is under, we will inject the serum into Ms. Reynolds’s spinal cavity and use the same vita rays that were used on Captain Steven Rogers.” Howard holds up a vial. “This Valium, 5 miligrams.”

Phoebe holds her breath. Tony notices her discomfort level rising. “Squeeze my hand, Pheebs. As hard as you can. I can take it,” Tony encourages her.

Phoebe feels the effects of the valium almost immediately. Her face feels warm and tingly while her legs and arms feel as though she has been exercising for hours, like they are dead weight and tired. “I guess that’s why they have me strapped like a psych patient,” Phoebe slurs, looking at Tony with glazy eyes.

He can’t help but snicker at his best friend’s intoxicated appearance. But he promises himself and her that he won’t try anything. “You better not, mister. Or I’ll come after you with my new super powers.”

“Who says anything about you getting super powers?” Tony replies with a wink.

Peggy smiles. “Is this serum an exact replica of Captain Rogers’s serum?” Richard stepped forward. “No. Mr. Stark and I were able to isolate similar properties of Captain Rogers’s serum while simultaneously creating a new compound that will act on Ms. Reynold’s neurotransmitters and regenerate them. Her neuromuscular tissue will also regenerate due to this alteration, but by omitting the serum from her major muscle groups, she will not develop peak physical attributes.”

“So, she will have the same regenerative properties – healing and metabolism – but her muscle mass will remain as it is now?” Peggy confirms. She seems to be making sure she understands the entire procedure. Phoebe notes how her hands have remained behind her back.

“Correct. We are just missing one ingredient.” Howard looks at her knowingly. “I assume you have brought it with you, Mrs. Carter.”

“You would be correct, Mr. Stark,” Peggy says and pulls her hands behind her back, revealing two vials filled with a dark red substance. “They’ve been kept in the correct atmosphere and have been tested for validity. Pre-approved by S.H.I.E.L.D., Mr. Stark.”

Howard takes the serum. “We need to mix Steve’s blood into the serum. Hopefully by doing this, Phoebe won’t reject the compound we created in the lab.”

“Hopefully? No, not good enough. You need to be sure!” Tony says firmly, keeping his hand wrapped tightly around Phoebe's.

“Nothing is guaranteed, Tony! You know this!” Howard snaps at his son.

Tony takes Phoebe’s hand and holds it to his chest. “Phoebe, you need to tell me now. Do you want this?”

“Yes,” she slurs.

Frustrated, Tony stands to face his father. “She’s too drugged to give consent. Stop the experiment.”

“Tony, she signed a waiver,” Richard tells him, looking at the waiver on his clipboard. He, too, sounds sad. “She’ll be okay.”

Tony shakes his head. “You don’t know that.” He looks up at Phoebe. He takes a deep breath. “They’re gonna give you the Propofol now, okay? It’s gonna make you sleep.”

“That wasn’t Propilif they gave me an hour ago?” Phoebe asks. She doesn’t know who she is asking the question to.

“They gave you the valium ten minutes ago, and no, it wasn’t. This is going to make you sleep, so when you wake up, you may feel a little funny,” Richard says to her softly. He leans over her and presses a tender kiss to her forehead. “I love you so much, my sweet child. You are so brave.”

“I just don’t wanna hurt anymore, daddy.”

Tony inhales a sharp breath, squeezing his best friend’s hand tighter than he should but he doesn’t care. “You better wake up, Sparks,” he says in a whisper that only he and Phoebe could hear. “I need ya.”

“I know you do,” Phoebe replies in a child-like whisper. “But it’s okay. ‘Cause when I wake up, I’ll be better than ever.”

Tony feels the tears stinging his eyes again when he gives Phoebe a quick peck on the lips. “You already are to me,” he says, ghosting over her upper lip. He kisses her one more time, and pulls back, never letting go of her hand.

Richard bites his lip, but then nods his head and tells Howard, “Do it.”

“See you when you've awaken, _soldier_ ,” Peggy says to Phoebe as the Propofol enters her body.

“ _Soldier_ …” Phoebe manages to whisper before her world as she knows it fades to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave kudos or comment! I enjoy hearing from everyone - whether it's good bad or in the middle. This story is a therapy to me because I deal with some painful medical problems, so even if y'all don't like it, I'll keep posting anyway. :)


	3. What Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everything goes according to plan with the Experiment...

          “She should be awake by now. Why isn’t she awake?” Tony asks, fear vibrating through his veins as he watches his father read through her chart.

          “Give it time, son. She went through a very traumatic event,” he tells Tony firmly in the tone that fatherly tone Tony can’t stand.

          “A traumatic event that wasn’t necessary, I might add. I told her… I told her I could make it go away.” Tony dips his head against her hospital bed railing. Tony is exhausted and his body is betraying his desire to stay awake until Phoebe awakens.

          It’s this very moment that Howard looks at the exhaustion creeping on his son’s features, blending in with the fear of the unknown. He realizes he hasn’t been involved in his son’s life as much as he should. How could he have missed how close his son has become to his assistant’s daughter? It quickly becomes clear as to why Tony hasn’t slept in two days.

          “Do you love her?” Howard demands to know the answer. Tony doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. He ignores his father, choosing to walk sit down in the hospital chair and take Phoebe’s hand. He refuses to leave her side, his hand never leaving hers. Only the steady thrum of her heartrate in the background to make up for the silence. “I see.”

          “Do you now? That’s great. The might Howard Stark finally sees through the fog that hangs over his beloved son. I am so glad you see now, _Dad_ ,” Tony spats. He feels guilty about the way he replied, but he’s too stressed about Phoebe to want to apologize.

          Before Howard can reply, Richard and Peggy walk in, their expressions equally flat. Tony fears for the worst.

          “Her brain is nonresponsive to stimuli. Either the serum is taking longer to regenerate her brain, or it…oh god…” Richard trails off and slips into the chair across from Tony’s. He leans over his daughter and whispers against her ear, “I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry.”

          “So what now?” Tony asked.

          “We have to wait and see if she can come out of it on her own,” Peggy said. She walked to the edge of Phoebe’s hospital bed.  She looked peaceful in her comatose state. Peggy almost thought it would be better if she stayed asleep. Perhaps there is a reason she isn’t waking. A better purpose she is meant to serve.

          “No…” Tony shook his head with his finger balled into fists. “I… just, no.” He bent down and kissed Phoebe’s lips gently. “I’m gonna make it okay. I promised you that and I’m going to keep it.”

Walking passed his father without saying a word, he left the room where Happy stood waiting patiently in the waiting room.

          “Is Ms. Reynolds okay?” Happy asked. He’d never met the girl, but Tony has told numerous stories of their adventures together that he feels like he already has met her.

          Tony felt a migraine coming. “Just uh, get the car, please.”

          “Right away, boss.”

***

         “Damn it!” Tony Stark swiped violently at his desk, without a care that chemicals fell on the ground and fizzled together, or that his necessary equations were soaked and smudged. He was drunk and running on three hours of sleep, though he didn’t care. Every part of his new device passed the first round of tests, except when it attached to synthesized neurotransmitter catalases that acted as Phoebe’s brain. When attached, it sparked a reaction that would’ve fried her brain to mush instead of bringing her out of her coma. She’s been asleep for almost six weeks. Dr. Reynolds was feeling guilty every single day for going against her wishes. But Tony refused to give up on her.

         “If she has to be angry at anyone, make her angry at me! But at least there is a chance she’ll be alive,” Tony told Dr. Reynolds when Howard discussed their options. Phoebe was staying at the Starks’ VIP hospital suite, and all expenses were being paid by Tony himself.

         “Mr. Stark, I think you should initiate the contaminated chemical protocol. Your chemical reaction is creating a mixture that could potentially harm you,” JARVIS said. He was a new system designed to run the house. Electricity, security protocols, and instances like this. He is still in its prototype phase.

         “Dum-E, initiate CCP,” Tony ordered while rubbing his eyes. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were full of sand.

         “Might I suggest some rest, sir?” JARVIS asked, sounding as concerned as he could be for an A.I. machine.

         “Not yet,” Tony said. He reached for another circuit and grabbed his welding hat. “Let’s get to work.”

 

***

          Another 6 weeks pass.

          The young Stark did make one realization. Her body was working, but her brain was frozen at the moment she was given the serum. Perhaps it wasn’t because the serum failed.

          What if… what if the serum succeeded and they missed a step?

          Tony gathered every medical record her could find on Phoebe. Reports currently show that Phoebe shows no signs of atrophy. She is breathing on her own and her legs flinch at painful stimuli. But she hasn’t woken up yet. Her ICU doctor suggested a rehab facility, but Dr. Reynolds refuses. One doctor went on record to say that her functional MRI showed that her brain over operating twice the average human’s capacity. Every aspect of her brain was lit up like a Christmas tree. But it wasn’t moving throughout her body.

          Tony had just the invention.

          “Mr. Hogan is here to take you to the hospital, sir,” JARVIS says.

          “In a minute,” Tony replies, exhaustion and agitation clear in his voice. He was holding his tenth attempt at the device he created to try to help Phoebe. So far, it was going steady, and if he added the synthetic neurotransmitters and adjusted the pressurized probes, then maybe…

          “Sir, Mr. Hogan is bypassing my security protocol…”

          “Hold on!” Tony shouts. He needs finish what he’s doing. If he messes up, the lab could explode. He reaches for the synthetic transmitters, implants them into the model brain and flips a switch. It works like a human brain. Neurons fire rapidly throughout the model. He sticks two probes on either side of the model and takes a deep breath. “Test number 193.”

          He shuts the lid on the model’s tempered glass cage and presses the red button.

          The brain model jumps. Electricity shoots through its core and the miniature MRI scan Tony built shows that the brain was stimulating through the first probe and operating the battery pack attached on the second probe.

          The brain model kickstarts, and the neurons fire in a steady rhythm.

          “Test number 193 was successful. Congratulations, Mr. Stark,” JARVIS announces.

          “Mr. Stark!” Happy shouts. He’s made it through the security clearance into the laboratory. “If I wasn’t getting paid by the hour, I’d be royally pissed at you. You don’t answer your phone, you leave me to sit upstairs with your maid who speaks no English whatsoever except ‘Hello’ and “Will that be all Mr. Stark?’. She keeps handing me the bottle of Scotch from the bar. And of course you’re ignoring me.”

          Tony smiles wide and grabs the probes and the circuit he needs to operate them along with the chemical catalase. “Let’s go, Happy!” He walks passed Happy, but not before handing him $500. “Consider that my apology for holding you up and ignoring you.”

          “Uh, thanks… Mr. Stark. Really,” Happy says with a content smile on his face. He follows his boss to the car. “Having a good day are we, Mr. Stark?”

          “Please call me Tony from now on. Mr. Stark is my father. And yes, I am having a great day.” Tony looks at his invention with glee in his eyes. “It’s about to get even better.”

          “Glad to hear it, Tony.”

          ***

          Richard was sitting with his daughter, talking about his day with Mr. Stark when Tony knocks on the sliding door. “Hey, Ton,” Richard says. “I thought you weren’t coming until five?”

          “I had Happy drive through every red light and turn right on every ‘No Turn’ lane.” Tony holds his invention out for Richard to see. “If I’m right, this will wake her up.”

          “Tony…” Richard says with a heavy sigh. “I know you made a promise to her, but-”

          “No buts. This _will_ work. My inventions are legendary! I created synthesize neurotransmitters that will act as a catalase. When signaled by these probes, they will send shocks through her body. They acted exactly like what was shown on Phoebe’s fMRI. I used this circuit, injected the model with a catalase to shock the probe and it _kickstarted_ the brain, allowing the brain to operate a car battery.”

          “What is the car battery representing? Phoebe’s body as a whole?”

          “Exactly!”

          Richard looked at the device. It was a prototype, put together in a rush. “What are the effects to Phoebe if you do this and it doesn’t work?”

          Tony opens his mouth to speak until he realizes he has no idea. “I know it will work, Richard, okay? You have to trust that if something has the Stark name, it works. It 100% works, and it _will_ make a difference.”

          “I don’t know…”

          “Please,” Tony begs, staring into Richard’s eyes like a helpless puppy lost on the street. “I need to try this.”

          “Alright,” Richard agrees, though he is hesitant about it. He isn’t sure if this will work, even with Tony’s confidence, but he is willing to try anything.

          Tony is left alone with Phoebe. He sits next to her and watches her sleep. She looks peaceful and stressed at the same time. Like she wants to get up but can’t. Tony notes that her fingers move upon occasion. It was a good sign.

          But not good enough.

          “I know what you said,” Tony tells Phoebe. “But as usual, I didn’t listen. I made something. It’s going to help you.”

          Richard watches the door while Tony sets up the probes. He takes a syringe from the medical drawer and draws out the correct measurement of the catalase he created.

          “What is that?” Richard asks. He needed know what Tony planned on injecting his daughter with. Tony tells him exactly what’s in the liquid, and that it binds to the same receptors of Phoebe’s natural endorphins.

          “Don’t worry so much, Rich. You’ll get wrinkles.” Tony flashes a quick smile before unhooking Phoebe’s IV. “I’m gonna insert the catalase now. Once her pulse starts rise, I’ll flip the circuit switch and it’ll send an electrical pulse through the catalase current, and basically restart her brain’s neurological pathway.”

          Richard hummed his verbal approval, but his face showed that he was still unsure of the procedure. He watched Tony turn a few knobs and adjust the probes. Phoebe’s pulse began to climb into the mid-80s. Once it stayed steady at 93, Tony opened the button cage and looked at Richard. He nodded a final time, and Tony pressed the red button.

          Her pulse remained at 93 bpm. Tony brought his portable fMRI scanner and used it to see what Phoebe’s brain was doing.

          “It’s working,” Tony said, sounding impressed with himself. “Come on, Pheebs,” Tony pleas, steadily watching the MRI. There’s a jump in her functionality. “I got something!”

          Richard takes a penlight and lifts her eyelids, shining it directly at her pupils. “Her pupils are reactive and responsive!”

          Tony smiles. The probes are at 60%. “I’m gonna shock her at 70%.” He adjusts the knob to 70, and her body convulses.

          “Tony!” Richard turns Phoebe on her side. “What’s happening?”

          “Her body just needs to go through it,” Tony says, though it sounds like he is convincing himself more than Richard.

          “If she doesn’t stop, I’m going to have to give her 2 of Ativan.”

          “No! Any psychoactive drug can cause a flaw in the device.”

          Phoebe continues to seize, and Tony begins to wonder if maybe he should forgo to the experiment. He reluctantly reaches to stop the procedure, but then Phoebe’s body stills, and her states return to a normal range. She remains still for a steady few minutes, her heartbeat thumping at a perfect 72 bpm. She’s taking in the same amount of breaths as someone in a deep REM sleep. Her functional MRI shows that her brain is no longer frazzled and unsure of the neuropathways that have been amplified.

          The neurotransmitter catalase worked.

          “I’m going to make a few notes in her chart,” Richard says aloud, then sits on the recliner in the corner of the ICU room.

          Tony is cleaning up his device and deactivating the poles when he decides to take a rest and allow his adrenaline to return to normal. He nearly misses the twitch of Phoebe’s foot when he leans against her hospital bed. But he does, in fact, catch the spastic movement. Just barely. His adrenaline rises again, and in an instant, he’s taking a pen and rubbing the capped end up the sole of her foot.

          She retracts her foot.

          Tony finds himself smiling uncontrollably when her eyelids twitch as well. He leans in closer, wanting to study her to see if she’d open her eyes. She doesn’t do so immediately. He turns to leave to sit beside her when he felt something cool grab his arm. Before he could process what was happening, his world stopped. He couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, and the world seemed to fade to black at random, although he could still use his cognitive processes. The inability to communicate with anyone or anything was uncanny. Like he was frozen.

          “Phoebe?” Richard looks up from his chart and can hardly keep the excitement tame in his voice and his face. Tony had blocked his view, but when he approached his daughter and saw the dark blue hue radiating from her hand Tony’s entire body, Richard gasps.

          There is a moment of silence before Phoebe admits, “Dad, I’m scared.”

          “It’s going to be alright, honey.” Richard has no clue how it will be alright, if it will be alright at all, but he’s going to try like hell. “You don’t seem to have any damage to your neo-cortex or your sensory-motor skills, so that’s great news.” Richard looks at Tony. “Have you tried letting go of him?”

          Phoebe releases Tony’s arm, and the blue energy surrounding his body dissipates. _There is no way it’s that easy_ , Phoebe thinks to herself.

          “Whoa, where did you come from?” Tony jumps when he sees Richard standing next to him.

          “Tony, what do you remember?” Richard asks.

          “Uhm, I remember…” Tony wanders off when his eyes lock on Phoebe. “Hey, you’re awake.”

          Phoebe offers a weak smile. “That I am.”

          Tony lets out a sigh of relief. He can feel his heart pound against his sternum, reveling in the success of one of the scariest tests he’s ever performed for one of his inventions. Richard acknowledges the inventor before stepping out of the ICU room.

          “How is she?”

          “She’s going to pull through, Peggy. Thank you for watching the door while we do this,” Richard says before extending a hand for her to shake.

          “Sounded like it was touch and go there for a mo’,” Peggy inquired. “What happened?”

          Richard faces the ICU windows, watching his daughter’s shocked expression as her hand glows a pale blue, revealing what happened to Tony. “I think it’s time we called Howard in from France.”


	4. After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoebe is getting restless at the hospital and anxious to learn about her recent transformation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance! This chapter is super short because it is a filler. I expect this story to end soon, as it is meant to be a short pre-Captain Rogers story. When we pick up with Part II, Phoebe will have found out she isn't the lone serum success story after all. I hope you're all enjoying! Feel free to comment or leave kudos!

Phoebe’s been conscious, but still in the hospital, for almost a week. That’s a week of horrible food, crappy television channels, and boring crossword puzzles. She was ready to get out, even if it was the hospital wing of _Stark Industries_ and not a real hospital.

The one piece of good news was learning that the serum did what it was intended to for. Her most recent scan showed that her pain signals are not firing at all until a painful stimulus is introduced, such as a needle prick. But even when such a stimulus is introduced, her pain signals do not fire as intensely as a normal human’s pain signal would. Meaning, her pain tolerance is higher than the average person; a benefited side effect of the serum. Another benefit was one that Peggy Carter assumed would happen – her healing is beyond that of the average human, as well as her metabolism rate. While not as fast as Captain Rogers’ metabolism, Phoebe would need to consume three times the normal amount the average woman would to achieve even low amounts of euphoric levels of intoxication.

Still, Phoebe’s most recent side effect was still a mystery. Neither scientist has ever encountered something this unique. The first step they decided was necessary was to determine if the side effect was one from the serum or from Tony Stark’s invention. So, while working on a solution, they discussed – loudly – the ins and outs of the invention.

***

“How could you be so irresponsible? Building an invention and using live test subjects on a _prototype_. You know better than that, Tony,” Howard stressed. They were in the main laboratory studying the serum under a microscope, using Tony’s synthetic brain and neurotransmitter catalase to see if they could recreate Phoebe’s side effect in the lab.

Tony was trying his best to ignore his father by working on the opposite end of the lab table, but to no avail. “What would you have wanted me to do? Sit back and wait for the board’s approval to build a beta? Then wait some more and risk Phoebe _never_ waking up? ‘Cause that’s exactly how that scenario would’ve gone and you know it.”

“I expected you to think with your brain, not your heart.”

“Well, unlike you, I still have a heart to think with. I guess that’s where you and I differ.”

Howard managed to have one decent discussion with Tony about the parts of his invention, and they created a beta brain using Phoebe’s pre-serum fMRI. Tony injected the serum into the beta brain and watched how the serum reacted to the synthetic neurotransmitter floating within the cortex. Howard took a swab and looked under the microscope. There, he noticed that when the serum mixed with the neurotransmitter, creating a bright blue glow then the neurons froze mid-crossing the synaptic gaps the brain. The glow was nearly identical to Phoebe’s hands. Tony watched on the microscopic camera he inserted into the microscope so he wouldn’t have to bend his head and touch his eyeball to the germ-infested lab equipment.

“Now we need to kick-start the brain with your device and see what happens,” Howard said without looking up at his son.

Tony rolled his eyes and jotted down what he saw on the feed. He reached over the table for the device and hooked up the battery and model brain, reenacting the home test he performed just hours before performing it on Phoebe. Howard did have a point. It was reckless and irresponsible. He could’ve killed her. But he knew that Phoebe did not want to be in that coma for the time she was under. She would have asked them to pick an end-of-life option after the 4th week. He owed her the chance at living.

They swabbed the second sample after the test was performed and looked under the microscope. The neurons were glowing blue, firing at an even pace. They remained permanently glowing.

“Guess my invention wasn’t irresponsible after all,” Tony quipped to Howard as they went over the results. Howard simply told his son to pull up Phoebe’s bloodwork.

Tony spun in his chair and pushed himself across the room where the virtual circle stood for their computer files. He reached into the virtual file of Phoebe and pulled out her most recent bloodwork panels with DNA testing. He pushed it into the center of the room, then expanded it with his hands.

“Her helix has the same glow,” Tony said. He paused for a moment. A thought came to mind. “Do we have any of the Captain’s blood left?”

“Peggy Carter gave me her last vial to hold on to for any future endeavors,” Howard replied.

“So you plan on doing this to someone else, then? Great.”

“Must you always be so cynical?” Howard asked in disbelief that his son could be so bitter. He took his watch and pressed a side button, allowing a hologram screen to pop up above it. It was Dr. Renyolds. “Could you please bring Captain Rogers’s blood vial down to the research lab from the phlebotomy lab, Dr. Reynolds?”

_“I’m on my way, Mr. Stark.”_

“He’s sitting with Phoebe and you’re going to make him run your errands?” Tony chided with a shake of his head. “No. I’ll get it.” He opened his watch and contacted Dr. Reynolds. “Richard, stay where you are. I’ll take care of it.”

A small swab of the Captain’s blood showed no resemblance whatsoever to Phoebe’s glowing DNA. Howard and Tony could see where in Captain Rogers and Phoebe’s DNA their original coding for their diseases were changed, giving them codes for healthier bodies.

***

“So, what’s wrong with me?” Phoebe asked, holding her father’s hand on one side and Peggy’s on the other. Peggy flew back to the US to hear the news in person.

“We now know that the serum works differently on people,” Howard began. “In your case, Phoebe, the serum slowed the rate at which your neurons fired to the point they were in a suspended animation.”

“So how did I not die then?”

“The serum is fast-acting. Once it went into your spinal cavity, it went into your bloodstream and your body began the regeneration process immediately. Your body was constantly healing the damage done by having you brain activity frozen, allowing you to remain this way. Until Tony’s device jolted you out of it.”

“I guess I wrong. Some things can be fixed with an invention after all,” Phoebe said, poking Tony in the ribs.

“Hey! Watch the hands. We still don’t know the extent of your… your _gift_.” Tony looked at his best friend’s hand, watching as her fingertips changed colors from dark blue to light blue to a light purple. “So what are you, a human lava lamp?”

“Huh?” Phoebe followed his gaze, finally taking note that he hands were changing colors. “Oh! I didn’t notice. I just know I feel about ten different emotions right now.” Tony nodded, understanding. “So, what exactly is this gift of mine? Is it like the Captain’s enhanced strength and whatnot?”

“Your individual gift must have been triggered because we altered the serum to only affect your central nervous system. As far as I can tell, you can use your brain power and emotions to manipulate molecules, or something of that nature.”

“I’m just glad when Tony froze it was without looking like a block of ice,” Phoebe admitted to the group about her newfound gift.

“I am grateful that didn’t happen, too. I hate the cold,” Tony said with a chuckle.

“So, this is a thing I have to learn how to control.”

“We’ll get through it, Pheebs,” Richard promised, rubbing her shoulder softly. “Let’s get you some water.”

Phoebe nodded and is handed a glass of water, but her anxiety regarding her new gift triggers a new power – invisibility. With a light blue hue encasing the water cup, it disappears, and the pool of water splashes over her gown.

“Maybe we should put gloves on, or oven mitts until we can figure out a training plan,” Tony suggests with a hesitant smile, handing her two surgical gloves.

“Great, it’s magical chicken pox,” Phoebe retorted with an eye roll. “So does this mean I can go home now?”

Richard laughed. “Yeah, we can go home now.”


	5. Hell out of Dodge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark faces a tragedy and Phoebe is there for him, though his only focus is on her safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last part of Part I. Part II is in editing and will up soon! Part II follows Phoebe's journey into finding out who she is with these powers, and the introduction of Captain America! Part II features scenes re-written to fit scenes from movies like, Avengers and Captain America the Winter Soldier.

(Phoebe’s POV)

I spent most of the fall season trying to get a hold on my new powers. Since their discovery in August, I have learned to freeze time and the people around me, turn objects and people into ice, turn myself as well as other objects invisible. I can manipulate the air, allowing me to levitate and fly around the house. I can explode objects. I learned that the hard way when I nearly decimated my bedroom when my father grounded me for using my powers outside of our two-story condo that the Starks generously donated.

More studies showed that my power works by altering molecules around me. And since molecules are present in just about everything in the world, I could have an unlimited amount of power that may never be accessed in my lifetime. Luckily, I have forever. Another study showed my biological clock is suspended. Or at the very least, aging at an incredibly slow rate. I will outlive everyone I know and care about.

I know I said I wanted to be healed, and Ann Rice makes eternity seem cool, but this is not how I would have pictured spending my pain-free freedom. Locked in my room.

I need to get out.

And that’s when it happened.

The call came in a few days later. None of us were prepared. Howard Stark and his wife were on their way to spend a few days just the two of them before Christmas. They never made it to the airport. They were killed in a vehicle crash. Tony barely managed to tell me what happened before I was changing out of my pajamas and into jeans and a hoodie. I decided to test out my flying I had no idea how I was going to bypass the new security system, though.

Wait. Duh.

I walked down the hall to the mainframe hidden inside the hall closet. I reached inside and closed my eyes, focusing on the cool sensation running down my arm. I opened my eyes. The security box was completely frozen in a block of ice. I ran to my room and jumped out of the window of our condo, which sat at the top of the penthouse.

I was falling out of the building. Fuck.

***

“Come on!” I scream. My energy waves sputtered. I shot out a block of ice mid air and landed face first. “Shit!” I stand up to try again, and the ice is beginning to crack with nothing to support it. “Okay. Breathe… Ready… Let’s go!” I twist my hands in circular motions, igniting the purple waves. I was levitating. I twist faster and faster until I shot up into the air and… oh my god.

I was actually flying! I live a short distance from the Stark’s residence. I float around the city, thanking the Lord it was night. I make it to the Starks, bypassing their front security gate and flying to Tony’s wing of the mansion.

“Pssst!” I tap his window, but he has headphones on, banging his head erratically in the air. “Tony!” I yell. This was going to work.

I don’t think I can be invisible and fly at the same time, so I clutched onto a vine that was nearby and closed my eyes, focusing all of my energy into being invisible. I felt a funny surge flow through my body, and when I opened my eyes, I saw everything in thermal vision. Weird.

I slowly phased through the wall, the insulation, wood, and concrete until I got into his room. I lost control because I ended up shooting an electric shock and hitting his CD player.

“What the fuck?!” Tony shrieks, turning around with his hands up. “Sparks? What are you doing here?”

“You think I’d miss this? You must really be drunk,” I tell him slyly.

Tony smiles and reaches over to pull me in his arms. “Your dad is going to kill you for leaving.”

“Screw it. You needed me.”

“Thank you,” Tony says with a sigh. I feel his nose touch the crook of my neck. He was breathing in my strawberry shampooed hair. “I love strawberries.”

I giggle. He was either flirty or gregarious when he was drunk. I sit him down on his bed and take his hand. “How are you holding up?”

“Oh, me? Taking it like a champ.”

“No, you’re not.”

Tony looks at me with a tear threatening to spill out of his eyes. He looks so vulnerable and scared, like a lost child looking for their mother. But I could see he was holding back his feelings, as usual.

“Let it out,” I say to him.

He collapses into my lap, tears falling like a river in the direction of his heart. I touched his head and felt a _zap!_.

“Oh my god,” I breathe before the tears ran just as fast down my cheeks. He was in so much pain. I could feel the fibers of hi heart tearing at the seams, blood pooling into his cavity and stinging his flesh. His entire body was _aching_ , _mourning_ for them.

He was the epitome of heartbreak.

“What happened?” He asks, stifling back a groan.

“I felt you. Your pain. It must be a gift I have. But, it doesn’t matter.” I take both of his hands and wipe his tears on either side of his face, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. “Tony, don’t hide it. It will kill you. It’ll kill me,” I breathe through sobs.

Tony nods and rubs both of his eyes quickly, letting out a quick but sharp breath. “I’m good. I just… I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, too.”

I froze. “What do you mean _me_?”

Tony kisses my forehead and stands up, walking to his desk and shuffling through the thousands of paperwork that was scattered among the corner wood desk. He finds what he was looking for and hands me a newspaper clipping.

HOWARD STARK ANNOUNCES SUCCESSFUL SERUM REPLICATION: TEST SUBJECT UNKNOWN BUT ALIVE

“He announced it?” I ask in a gasp.

“And the next day, he died,” Tony says with anger in his voice that I never knew existed.

He kept my identity a secret. But at what cost?

“If they find out who the test subject is, you could join them,” Tony says, his voice faltering between anger and fear. I feel my powers swirl around my hands. He notices, too, because he covers his hands over mine and he takes the sting of the energy. “Phoebe, stop. You can’t change anything.”

“I don’t care,” I hiss in a low growl. I have no control over the anger building inside of me. Its seeping out of my pores before I can contain it, and my power overwhelms myself and Tony.

“Phoebe!” Tony screams before he thrown against the wall by the energy blast.

“Tony!” I shout. I run over to him and my powers cease. I turn him over, and thankfully, he is still conscious.

“I’m fine, Pheebs. Really. It’s fine,” he assures me through his groans and moans. “It was an accident.”

“I thought I started to have control.”

“You just got them a few months ago. We have no clue how much power you truly have, so we need to keep you safe.” Tony takes the newspaper clipping and shoves it back in the drawer. He takes out his cell phone.

“Whoa, upgraded did we?” I ask, gesturing to his new high-tech phone. It was a compact non-flip phone with a touch screen and virtual keyboard.

“I designed it myself. It’s just a prototype. Anyway, I need to make a phone call.” He hits the call button and a loud beep turns silent. “Hey, it’s Tony. Yeah, she’s with me. No, she’s not hurt. I need to get her somewhere safe. How long? Okay. I’ll get her ready.” Tony hangs up. “We need to get you and your father on the next flight to a safe house.”

This was happening way too fast. My brain couldn’t keep up. “What safe house? I thought you and Mr. Stark secured my house to the brim with people?”

“We did. It’s not enough,” Tony simply says before grabbing my arm and leading to the helicopter pad where Happy was seated in the pilot’s seat. “Hop aboard.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

Tony hoists me up on the helicopter and buckles me in next to him. “To get your dad, get clothes, and get the hell out of dodge.”

***

(No One POV)

After gathering what we needed, Phoebe wasn’t told where we were headed, and neither was my father. He didn’t have time to see what Phoebe had done to the security system and Tony made it out to seem like he sought her out rather than the other way around. They did that from time to time as children. It worked until they reached the age where their parents stopped believing anything they said. Teenager years, of course.

They sat in the Stark helicopter as quiet as mice, not a peep to be heard. They were headed somewhere in New York City, but Tony wouldn’t say. Phoebe tried everything to get an answer.

“I don’t even know where we are going,” Tony swore up and down. “All I did was call in a favor, and they are directing us to where you and Dr. Reynolds need to go.”

“But you know who you called,” she reminded him.

Tony is relieved when we approach a high-tech building that looks an awful lot like a Stark building. Upon landing, there were several men and women in black, glasses, earwigs, and their hands in front of them. Tony puts his polarized sunglasses on and walked out first. He was immediately surrounded by the security.

“Wait, I’m not going without them,” Tony told the staff.

“Sorry, Mr. Stark, but our orders are to protect you at all costs. We must leave to your safe house immediately,” Happy said, being among one of the security.

“No, Happy! I have to at least say goodbye,” Tony shouted above him. “Phoebe!”

“Tony!” Phoebe cried out. She ran for Tony, but her guard reached out to hold her back. “Damn it, I said _NO!”_ She spun around, holding up both hands, and the dark blue energy surrounded the guard, freezing him in time. The other guard lunged for the Phoebe, but she blasted him out in the courtyard. A gunshot was heard, and it was Happy, having shot a bullet into the air.

“Enough,” he said firmly. “Come on, Tony.”

“No!” Tony squirmed through the guards, but they were too much. He couldn’t break free. “Phoebe, she’s all that I have now. Please, Happy. Please let me just… let me say goodbye. Please…”

“I’m sorry, Ton. Your father was very insistent that we shouldn’t hesitate to take you away to the safe house should anything happen to him.”

Tony was tossed into a jet on the other side of the building. As they took off, Phoebe was being held in magnetic shackles that emitted yellow. “What are they doing? Is that my invention?”

“Your fathers, actually. He made it in case they couldn’t control it.”

“ _It?_ **_It_** is my best friend. Phoebe volunteered to be free of her pain, and now they are treating her like an experiment?”

Happy handed Tony a bottle of scotch and he began to chug it. “They’re getting her to safety, but not before putting her through some tests of their own.”

“Who’s tests? Who the hell are we even talking about?!”

***

“Sorry for the way you brought in, Ms. Reynolds,” a deep voice said in the darkness.

Phoebe was still in the shackles. She looked at the name on her wrist. _Stark Industries._ A tear fell down her face, feeling betrayed, hurt, and pained by the shackles forcing her powers that were meant to flow freely through her veins to remain stuck in one place.

“Please take these off. It hurts,” Phoebe mumbled in pain.

“I can’t do that right now, Ms. Reynolds,” the voice replied.

“Blasted! What in the devil is going on- _Phoebe_?” Phoebe knew that voice. She smiled wide and started bashing against the restraints. Peggy Carter charged through the doors of the headquarters facility. “Release her at once!” she demanded, pointing to a lackey.

He ran over and released her chains, but not before looking at Phoebe with nervous eyes, and then pulled the chains off her. She quickly ran away from everyone and into a corner where Peggy stood.

“It’s all right, luv,” Peggy soothed. “They didn’t phone me about the situation until it went tits up.”

“Ya know?” Phoebe began, gaining more confidence. “I am getting really tired of asking _who the hell has captured me_! So somebody say something or I can promise you that I will blow up this entire building with everyone inside and I _don’t_ mean accidentally.”

“Easy now,” the voice breathes, stepping forward so his combat boot is visible in the moonlight. “You don’t have to be afraid of us.”

He reveals himself in a smooth, calibrated way that Phoebe knew was meant to show intimidation. An African American man, he stood tall but athletic, middle age with a bald head and a black eye patch over his left eye. There were small purple veins seeping from the eye mask. He looked like another important figure, especially when Peggy Carter moves over to stand next to him.

“We planned on bringing you in, getting you some food, some fresh clothes, and to ask you questions about your experiment, but then you pulled your little Houdini act outside and well… our guys are trained assassins, so they did what was necessary.”

“Should I thank them for not killing me?” Phoebe quipped. “’Cause it’s not gonna happen.”

“No, but if they save your ass from whoever made Howard Starks’s death look like an accident, I would at least give them a pat on the back or a handshake.”

“You know, all this talk and I still don’t know who you are. And you seem to know a lot about me.”

The man nodded and extended his hand. “Nick Fury. Welcome to _S.H.I.E.L.D._ , Ms. Reynolds. We could use someone like you. _”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story! I was kind of sad to see no one commented. But that's okay. People are reading it, and some left kudos. So shoutout to:  
> Mikomouse  
> Terra_nova000  
> slycatsmeow  
> & my anonymous guest for leaving kudos! (: Y'all are awesome <3


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